


The Strange Case of Merlin's Identity Theft

by The_Carnivorous_Muffin



Series: Lily and the Art of Being Sisyphus [38]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Female Harry Potter, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Master of Death Harry Potter, Murder, Time Travel, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-07-01 07:09:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15769119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Carnivorous_Muffin/pseuds/The_Carnivorous_Muffin
Summary: Swords, beards, Christianity, more swords, more beards, weird pregnant lady, more swords, weird old beard guy. Or, Lily ends up travelling through time and more or less accidentally stealing Merlin's identity.





	1. Prologue: Inexplicable Time Travel

**Author's Note:**

> Obligatory note that this is NOT CANON

The important part, Lily felt, wasn’t how she got into the situation that she was fairly certain she did not understand, but what the situation in itself was. Thrown onto the stone floor of a great cavernous room, brushing the dirt off of her clothing and staring into the bearded rather intimidating face of what she assumed was the lord of the castle. Lily had enough issues just trying to wrap her head around what was happening let alone how she’d even gotten into this mess.

 

“Wait, so, let me get this straight,” she started, then paused, trying to arrange the thoughts in her head. This proved somewhat difficult as there were many and they were raging against one another; each one emphasizing that she really did have no idea what the bloody hell was going on.

 

Well, she thought she had some idea, for a while. She’d thought she’d gotten the hang of everything for the most part at least until she’d been arrested and or summoned to court (it had never really been explained) and now she was clueless once again.

 

The point was that she could really use Wizard Lenin at the moment.

 

He would know what was going on or at least he would pretend to which was more than she could manage at the moment.

 

But they were still all staring at her, these bearded wary eyed men and their stone eyed lord, just waiting for the command to unleash medieval hell.

 

Not that Lily couldn’t handle medieval hell, she could, but there were certain ramifications for the handling of said hell that she wasn’t so sure she wanted to handle. Her inner Wizard Lenin was screaming at her that now was the time for prudent caution and not igniting a massacre and declaring herself lord of Wessex or Umbria or wherever the hell she was at the moment.

 

That would be bad or, rather, it would have consequences. Because she was pretty sure, despite History of Magic not even being a class, that she would have heard about a twelve-year-old girl single handedly wiping out a fortress and thus accidentally becoming nobility.

 

Probably, best not to tempt paradox, and that meant keeping a more or less low profile. Although, in retrospect, her complete and utter failure to keep a low profile was probably what had brought her to this place in the first place.

 

And that just reminded her that she was still very unclear on what was happening and that before anything else happened she should probably make sure she understood exactly what was going on.

 

She blinked, pretended she was simply back at Hogwarts where she could process this situation easier and ask that single desperate question she needed to ask, “You hauled my ass across the country so that you could screw your feudal rival lord’s unusually attractive wife?”

 

This, according to the guards’ reactions, was not the right question to ask. Although, what the right question truly was would remain forever a mystery, as no one provided anything close to an answer.

 

* * *

 

The story of how Lily ended up before the lord Uther Pendragon and was told that, as a peasant dwelling in his lands, it was technically her sacred duty to help him fulfil his ambition of uniting the kingdom and sleeping with Gorlois’ extremely beautiful wife, was a relatively simple one.

 

It started, as with most events in her life, on a seemingly perfectly ordinary day in Hogwarts, in mid-October, 1992.

 

She had been in the library, taking a well needed break from staking out bathrooms or else napping in Wizard Lenin’s over decorated basement dwelling while he pretended that he was a productive non-crippled member of society, and had been sitting across from Hermione Granger.

 

She probably should have been practicing quidditch, but, well, that ship seemed to have both sailed and sunk dramatically into the depths of the sea never to be resurrected.

 

Lily, according to both Blaise Zabini and Ron Weasley, didn’t understand either quidditch or fair play. This was apparently a rather large flaw in her character. Although, how exactly this was her failing grace was never truly explained to her and instead remained one of those incomprehensible mysteries produced by the continuous failing of the universe’s internal gears.

 

When she’d told that to Wizard Lenin he’d thrown one of Lockhart’s textbooks at her head.

 

These thoughts, along with others, were interrupted in that moment by her newly chronically irritated comrade, Hermione.

 

“You know, someday you may actually find this relevant.”

 

Lily looked over with raised eyebrows to find Hermione waving some thick absolutely boring looking book in her face.

 

Hermione Granger, in spite of her newfound complete lack of respect for anyone in any position of authority, still retained some of her old very un-Lenin like habits.

 

Some, like her obsessive need to have perfect grades, didn’t really bother Lily personally as Lily more or less had nothing to do with this. She just had to stay out of Hermione’s way whenever she was writing a paper or else face the muggleborn’s wrath for daring to distract from her precious study time.

 

Others, like her insistence that Lily learn things and appreciate the education she was being given, were much less appreciated.

 

“I will never find…” Lily trailed off, held up the book to her face and inspecting its title dubiously, “Merlin’s Britain and the Era of Pagan Enlightenment remotely relevant.”

 

She found her copy of Lovecraft far more relevant given that there was a large possibility that Lovecraft had been able to see the terrifying future and that the future was actually Rabbit. Or, at least, Lily felt by acquainting herself with the Dream Cycle she might be more or less prepared when Rabbit inevitably devoured humanity and reality fell back into disorder.

 

“We’re taking History of Magic for a reason, Ellie.” Hermione said, “And besides, you don’t even seem to know who Merlin is beyond his use as an expletive.”

 

“Sure, I know who he is…” Lily trailed off because usually this was where Wizard Lenin would give some cynical ramble out of irritation that would tell her more or less who Merlin was. As it was, Lily’s knowledge was somewhat limited, “He’s English wizard Jesus…”

 

Hermione was just as unimpressed by this answer as Wizard Lenin would have been, “He’s the founder of the modern British wizarding tradition!”

 

Seeing Lily’s complete lack of recognition and utter apathy Hermione continued, “The last magical advisor to an English King? Served under Arthur Pendragon? Arguably the most powerful wizard to ever live in the British Isles?!”

 

“Right, yes, that is important.” Lily said as she returned her attention to Azathoth who she was fairly certain was Rabbit in ineffable blob disguise, “Although, it doesn’t really make History of Magic worthy of a class.”

 

“That’s because you either skip History of Magic, use it to pick fights, or else spread your ridiculous made up stories!” This, apparently, was akin to blasphemy.

 

“Is there something else I was supposed to be doing there?” Lily asked and Lily felt that Hermione’s glare and lack of audible answer said more than enough. If they actually wanted people to go they would have had a professor there.

 

“Given that you’re apparently…” Here Hermione paused, lowered her voice, and bit out, “A god, I think I should be concerned that you have no respect for your own culture.”

 

Lily felt that gave her every reason not to have to respect British wizarding culture, certainly Wizard Lenin had never really bothered to respect it, otherwise he never would have come up with that crazy glorious revolution idea in the first place.

 

But that probably wasn’t what Hermione wanted to hear.

 

“Technically, we’ve never really clarified if I am a literal god.” Lily said instead, but this apparently was also the wrong thing to say and resulted in Hermione collecting her books and marching out of the library muttering things under her breath about the state of the world and how she shouldn’t even be surprised that Lily was a god because it explained why terrible things happened.

 

(Which, that was patently unfair, Lily had never been behind the inherently flawed structure of reality.)

 

Only, in her hurry, she left the Merlin book behind, leaving it for Lily to flip through.

 

“Let’s see what the fuss is about.” Lily said, pausing on various pages and declaring her thoughts as she went along, “Swords, beards, Christianity, more swords, more beards, weird pregnant lady, more swords, weird old beard guy… Boring.”

 

She slammed the book shut having felt she’d seen more than enough. If it was really relevant, after all, Wizard Lenin would have ranted about it already and she wouldn’t even be having this thought.

 

Ordinarily, at this point, things would have proceeded as per usual. As it was, Lily wasn’t entirely certain what went wrong, just that something, somewhere, tilted and it felt like she was standing perfectly upright but that the world itself was slipping away beneath her.

 

It also felt a bit like drowning in a washing machine set to high.

 

Regardless, Lily didn’t stay in the library or even in Hogwarts for that matter, without warning or explanation she opened her eyes and found herself in a deep and ancient forest without any sign of human life around her.

 

Only the books she’d had with her, The Dream Cycle and the history book on Merlin. With caution, she picked them both up, and looking around came to the only sensible conclusion she could think of, “Goddammit, Rabbit, when I find you I will skin you alive and make you wish you had stayed a gelatinous blob of evil beyond the outer reaches of existence!”

 

Of course, finding Rabbit and making him vomit Hogwarts, Hermione, Lenin, and everything else she’d ever known back into existence wasn’t that simple. Because, no matter where she seemed to look she couldn’t find him, or anything familiar really, instead everything had been replaced by a giant renaissance fair complete with peasants, disease, chickens, and lords on proud horses.

 

They also didn’t really speak English. It sounded vaguely like English, similar, but was mostly incomprehensible and took a lot of glitch manipulating for Lily to get the hang of listening to. It was England, she was pretty sure anyways, there was rain and a Stonehenge and a pitifully medieval version of London but it certainly wasn’t her England.

 

Not England in any modern sense of the word.

 

After too many stops in too many villages she’d finally sat down and thought about her options.

 

“Alright, Lily, there are two probable things that could have happened.” She announced to an empty field of wheat, the amber grains nodding their heads in agreement, “One, Rabbit ate the modern era and we’re now all trapped in England before the Norman invasion. Two, you were somehow, without warning, thrown back over a thousand years in time and are now more or less trapped in the past.”

 

She paused, gathering her thoughts, “Now, if it’s the first, we’re all probably doomed anyways. The future, after all, would have been devoured from existence, it may no longer be even possible for things like television, Die Hard, or Hindenburgism to come into existence.”

 

This was alarming for a number of reasons and she’d really prefer if this wasn’t the case. If it was, well, then she’d have to continue forth with the Rabbit Heimlich plan that she’d been going with so far.

 

“If it’s the second, well, if you keep your head down and don’t change anything then maybe you can time travel yourself to the future.” She stopped, that didn’t sound too bad, she could probably manage that without breaking reality. Of course, she’d have to figure out how to build a DeLorean or Tardis but she could probably do that. It was certainly more feasible than somehow recreating everything and pulling it out of Rabbit’s stomach.

 

And that had gone well, for a while, but healing lepers for a few gold coins garnered attention from people in very high places, as did walking on water, banishing fae, and anything else she did while traveling around the country looking for mystical time travelling objects.

 

And that was the short version of how Lily found herself before the future king of England.


	2. The Gorlois Incident

“I am severely uncomfortable with this plan.”

Uther Pendragon, in the guise of his nemesis and rival lord, Gorlois didn’t seem inclined to take her comments seriously. He seemed very preoccupied with battle preparations as well as his plan for after the capture of Gorlois and the ensuing sexual celebrations.

And true, she was bringing this up a little last minute, as they were on the field marching into battle to face the other horde of horses and metal swords and pitchforks but he hadn’t exactly given her a chance to speak her mind before this point.

Maybe it was because Lily was only twelve and had yet to go through puberty but she failed to see any of the logic behind this or why she even needed to be involved at all.

“You shall be rewarded for this, lad.” He also apparently thought she was a man.

“Right, just, couldn’t you find someone else to help you…” There really was no polite way to talk about Uther’s plan. At least, Lily couldn’t think of one, perhaps ‘release your passion’ but even that was very uncomfortable.

The man smirked at her, eyebrows raised, “Have tales not been told of your prowess across the land? Tell me, lad, what sorcerer is more powerful than you?”

Well, when he put it like that, no there wasn’t. In Lily’s sporadic wandering she’d noticed that the wizards were much less organized than they had been by the 1980’s. Olivanders was up and running, but appeared to only sell to very exclusive groups and was ridiculously difficult to find. As for normal witches and wizards most of them were capable of cheap parlor tricks or else they were aging druids living in the forest lamenting about the Romans and this new thing called Christianity that was sweeping the nation.

Point being Lily didn’t exactly have a scapegoat she could point to.

She hesitated, searching her mind for anything, and then all at once it hit her. That book, the book she’d only skimmed, the Merlin book, “Merlin.”

She didn’t know for sure if he was alive or around but considering that he was Wizarding Britain’s version of Elvis she was pretty sure that someone in Uther’s position would buy him being around or else abducted by aliens if she said it.

“There’s this guy, Merlin, really powerful. The most wizardly wizard of all, more so than Gandalf, and that’s saying a lot.” Lily said before adding, “Totally suited for the job of helping you seduce the stunningly gorgeous Mrs. Gorlois.”

Uther simply stared at her for a moment, in silence, his fellow noblemen muttering at the sight of her but not daring to say anything aloud (Lily had learned that the good lord Uther was quite terrifying and not someone you openly questioned ever).

“I have never heard of this man Merlin.” Uther said, a furrow in his brow, but seemed to brush it off without difficulty, “Regardless, I have found my own wizard. For all it matters to me, lad, you are this Merlin.”

She felt something in her stomach plummet.

Then he was riding off ahead with his knights, leaving Lily behind in the dust with the peasantry, staring after him and wondering how keeping her head down and not altering the past had somehow turned into this whole mess.

“Stay calm, Lily, you can’t do anything to him. Just play it cool, let him have his fun, and then walk away and try to be less ostentatious about the leper thing. Maybe just write plays instead, or something.” Her own pep talk wasn’t working as, staring after the man, listening to the bellow of the trumpets then the screaming, she just felt herself getting more and more out of sorts.

War, it turned out, involved a lot of severed limbs, decapitation, and having the blood of your comrades spurt onto you and soak your clothing. Lily, it turned out, didn’t really like being covered in blood. Even Wizard Lenin, for all his blood based propaganda, hated the feeling of blood soaking through his clothing like ridiculously salty kool-aid. 

“This is worse than Potions.” She finally said in stunned amazement as another man next to her was butchered, “This is worse than Double Potions.”

The field was swiftly painted red, as if it was a meadow filled with hundreds of thousands of poppies, and the clash of steel was almost overwhelming.

She took one overall look at the horror and chaos that was before her, the stench of death and disease in the air, and announced to anyone that would listen, “That’s it, I don’t care anymore. Lily out.”

With a loud crack she teleported to the front of the battle, beside the two Gorlois fighting it out, the Uther version with a bloodthirsty grin, which was all well and good for the blood splattered across his gleaming armor, and the real Gorlois who looked both enraged, terrified, and horrifically confused.

“Look, your highness, I really think you should go find this Merlin guy instead.” Lily said over the clang of swords and the screams of the horses, “I’ve heard great reviews about the guy and I think he’s exactly the sort of person you’re looking for.”

Uther gave no response, simply continued to hack away at Gorlois, so with the feeling that this was all in vain Lily opened her book and began reading, “The greatest wizard of the early modern magical age. See, that’s what they call him. The father of wizardry in Britain, I don’t know about you but that sounds both important and powerful.” 

Gorlois glanced at her in disbelief, at least, she assumed it was Gorlois but it was getting a little difficult to tell. She just had the feeling that Uther never glanced at anyone in disbelief and if he did it was that they dared to question his judgement.

“Also, you know, he’s older and a man and probably understands why you really want to have sex with this guy’s wife way more than I do. I mean, I vaguely understand, but it’s vague understanding and I think we both deserve better than that.”

Unfortunately for Gorlois this appeared to distract him enough for Uther to cut off his head. The body slumped to its knees then fell forward, blood spilling onto the grass, and his head rolled towards Lily’s feet where it stared up at her with quickly glazing eyes.

“Holy shit.” Lily summarized.

Uther turned slowly towards her, not bothering to wipe his blade, “You chatter far too freely, young Merlin.”

Lily held up a hand in protest, “Not Merlin.”

“Until you produce this other Merlin you speak of so fondly I will refer to you as such.” Uther smiled at her, a cold stark thing, and then began to walk away towards the dwindling battle, “Oh, and Merlin, I’ll have you know that I am quite satisfied with your performance thus far but I will expect better in the future.” 

"Oh, great, that’s excellent.” Lily said with the least amount of enthusiasm she had ever felt in her life since things were apparently spiraling far beyond her control. 

There was just something about watching him walk away into the blood and the carnage, so assured in his victory and her own willingness to follow him, that she just couldn’t handle and didn’t even want to handle.

Like she was something so absurdly insignificant that she might as well be one of those helpless severed arms littering the grassy plain.

“Uther Pendragon!” She shouted after him, but he didn’t stop, didn’t even twitch, and as she continued her voice took on the commanding tone of a prophet who promised death to those who dared not to listen, “You’ll have your moment of glory, your victory, your beer and ale, your hard won seduction. But on my word as the being of ultimate destruction, you will never be king of England!”

Finally he turned, looked at her with her ragged sweater, her small pale fingers, and her ridiculously large red hair, and he laughed. He looked at all he thought he saw inside of her and he was in hysterics.

And Lily, for her own part, just stood in silence and without a word teleported far away leaving him to Gorlois’ wife and his momentary glory.


	3. The Lady in the Lake

Winter, Lily learned, was a rather unforgiving season and really not that much fun. She used to be intimately familiar with it when she’d worked for the Dursleys as the gutters were to be cleaned rain, snow, hail, or shine but it’d been a while since then and she’d forgotten how bleak and cold winter could really be.

 

Particularly on the edge of a frozen lake with only a small magic fueled fire to warm her fingers and toes.

 

The trouble was that Uther, after having lost more than a few times, had started to take Lily’s words seriously. Since then it seemed like every pub on the island had a picture of her face on the wall with the name ‘Merlin’ beneath it.

 

So every time she entered a town she usually ended up running into some local mercenary looking for some quick cash, which usually turned into the town being destroyed, which would just increase the bounty further as entire villages now were sharpening their pitchforks in anticipation of her untimely demise.

 

She almost felt bad for the real Merlin, wherever he was, because Lily wasn’t really doing wonders for his reputation.

 

Although, according to the book that Lily finally got around to reading, Merlin supposedly wasn’t known for having burned down London which meant he wasn’t getting blamed for everything Lily had gotten up to.

 

“Although, you’d think he’d have at least made some appearance at this point.” Lily muttered to herself as she rubbed her fingers together for that lost spark of feeling.

 

According to Hermione’s book, which Hermione had claimed was very important and more or less historically accurate, it was highly likely that Merlin had either directly or indirectly been involved in the Gorlois Seduction Scheme and Arthur Pendragon’s apparent conception. Meaning that he should really have been around for that whole time that Lily was trying to convince Uther that he should be looking for Merlin instead.

 

And now, whenever Lily went around asking for Merlin, she always received a picture of her own face in return. Meaning, as far as Lily could tell, Merlin had been kidnapped by aliens and wasn’t even on the island at all.

 

Not that Lily really cared, aside from the fact that this was either a paradox in the making or a very impressive glitch, since her main goal was still to find or else make that time machine that would propel her back into 1992.

 

It turned out that time machines weren’t that simple to make, and months of wandering around and thinking had really gotten her nowhere at all, and if she spent anymore nights beside frozen lakes she might get a little desperate.

 

It wasn’t like Lily wanted to destroy the universe and stretch it too thin by breaking the space time continuum, she was actually being very cautious about this, but she was also starting to get really cold and she really was not appreciating this whole Uther Pendragon business.

 

Or winter for that matter.

 

Lily looked to the overbearing gray winter sky in desperation, feeling long since past the end of her patience and cold tolerance, “Oh glitch filled universe which I do not understand, if you would please look the other way for five seconds and allow a Tardis to miraculously appear next to me I would be extremely grateful.”

 

The universe, strangely enough, actually answered.

 

Lily leapt back, eyes drawn to the frozen water and the being that was emerging from it, not descending from the heavens like the voice of god but instead climbing out of a frozen lake in the form of a very naked woman. Of course, Lily used the term woman loosely, because whoever the naked woman was she wasn’t human.

 

There was something in the silver pallor of her skin and her metallic eyes that spoke of fish and life beneath the still waters of the lake.

 

“What is it you seek at the edge of my waters, young traveler?”

 

For a moment Lily hesitated, read the woman’s expression, wondering if somehow Rabbit had decided to change age and gender on her but for all the lack of humanity in the woman’s eyes they weren’t fathomless and empty.

 

There was a hunger in there.

 

Slowly Lily forced herself to relax, to consider the situation rationally, and to try he luck since the universe did seem to be kind of answering her pleas, “A time machine?”

 

The woman said nothing so Lily elaborated, “You know, an object that helps you jump, oh I don’t know, a thousand years or so into the future.”

 

Although if a time machine had been sitting at the bottom of this random lake the entire time then Lily called shenanigans on the universe.

 

“That is a strange thing you seek, young wanderer.” The woman commented, tilting he head and inspecting Lily as if she was glinting in the sunlight.

 

“Is it? What do people normally ask for?”

 

A smile with jagged teeth designed for cutting flesh, “Wealth, women, youth, beauty, power… No mortal being has ever asked for a boat to sail through time.”

 

Why was that so very unnerving? Maybe it was the sheer amount of naked flesh, certainly it was making Lily uncomfortable. “Well, that’s great, do you have one?”

 

“Perhaps, perhaps not.”

 

Lily stared for a moment, blinked, narrowed her eyes and felt her suspicions rising, “I really hope you’re not Rabbit in naked lake woman disguise.”

 

The possibly Rabbit woman gave no response, just her jagged smile, which honestly could mean yes or no.

 

“If you are Rabbit in naked lake woman disguise then you should know that I’m very unhappy at the moment.” Lily said, trying to control her rapidly rising temper, “I mean, did you have to eat television?! And Lenin?! Surely Hogwarts would have been enough you gluttonous bastard!”

 

The ice of the lake began cracking beneath the strain of Lily’s growing stress but she wasn’t concentrating on that, instead letting all of her frustration out after almost a year of this pre renaissance bullshit, “And did you have to trap England in the middle ages?! Couldn’t you have picked any other time? Because, really, Rabbit, you have to know that I won’t stand for this and I will physically beat the twentieth century out of your intestines.”

 

The woman didn’t blink or even flinch, instead she straightened her head and said, “I have a gift for you, young wanderer.”

 

Out of the water, floating, came a magnificent glowing sword that landed at Lily’s feet. She stared at it, feeling all of her emotions slipping away, and a horrific emptiness taking its place as she felt all of her expectations come crashing down around her.

 

“Rabbit, is this a time machine?”

 

“It is Excalibur, young wanderer, the sword of kings.”

 

Excalibur, the sword of kings, glowed very prettily before her feet and would no doubt be very impressive if Lily had wanted a giant broadsword.

 

She looked up at the woman, her voice dead in her ears, and her vision narrowing so only the woman remained, “Is it a time machine?”

 

The woman said nothing.

 

There was no real decision that she’d had enough, no real breaking rational thought, just an instinct to tackle the woman and wrap her arms around her stomach proceeding into the Heimlich procedure as it had been portrayed on all of Dudder’s educational health pamphlets.

 

“Hack it up, soulless bastard!”

 

The woman struggled, wheezing as Lily repeatedly thrust her hands against her naked stomach, “Hack up everything! Hogwarts, Lenin, everything!”

 

Then, slowly, the woman began to dissolve back into liquid form, slipping through Lily’s fingertips and leaving her with one last jagged carnivorous smile and a glowing sword on the frozen shore.

 

The lake itself refroze and the woman was nowhere in sight.

 

“Goddammit!” She cried, then with a scream of rage took up the sword, scrambled onto the ice, and began to strike the surface and although the ice buckled it didn’t break and soon she just didn’t have the energy anymore.

 

Just a giant sword that didn’t even have the decency to be a time machine.

 

Then, turning to the heavens again, she cried out of the depths of despair to whatever might be listening, “What the hell am I even supposed to do with this damn thing?!”

 

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the lord god did not answer.


	4. Chapter 4

“Step right up, step right up ladies and gentlemen! Step right up and try your hand at being a divinely appointed ruler!”

 

Lily stood on the face of a large stone beside the sword Excalibur which had been lodged into it, before her rather miniscule audience. More important, perhaps, was the bag at her feet where whatever poor bastard wanted to try his hand at pulling the sword from the stone had to pay a slight fee to the wizard Merlin.

 

Twelve years, thirty-six unsuccessful time machines, several bounties after her head, absolutely no sign of any asshole named Merlin, feudal bickering from everyone in the land, chickens, lepers everywhere, and Lily was decidedly sick of this bullshit.

 

“Come on, come on, try your hand at absolute sovereignty of a divided kingdom! Step right up and be king for a day!”

 

The meager crowd stared at her, eyebrows raised, muttering to one another but she wasn’t a new sight, neither for that matter was the gleaming sword Excalibur. Lily had actually stuck it in there only a little while after the naked-lake-possibly-Rabbit-encounter. The thing was, after all, heavy as hell and she didn’t get very far lugging it around with her.

 

In a fit of desperate rage at God and the universe she’d stuck it into the foothills of a mountain and left it there.

 

Years later she’d discover that, when you left a giant glowing sword stuck in the ground, and when no one was able to pull it out, certain rumors started cropping up. Helping this was the death of Uther Pendragon, the only real viable candidate for kingship, and the spread of anarchy throughout the countryside as all of the lords scrambled for domination of the island.

 

The sword in the stone, they said, was the true mark of kingship. Only the true king of England would be able to draw the sword from it.

 

Or so they said.

 

Lily herself wasn’t entirely sure, but twelve years of fruitless quests to return to the 1990’s and failing to find Rabbit had left her somewhat disillusioned. She’d decided, somewhere along the way, if you couldn’t beat them you might as well join them.

 

“Come on, is there no one brave enough in my esteemed audience to even try?” Lily said, and judging by their looks there wasn’t, if only because most of them didn’t have the money. Not that it was much of a crowd either, a scraggly young boy covered in working class peasant dirt, a few older men muttering to themselves and eying the blade like it was a young man’s game, but there was also one noble lord and a small retinue of knights.

 

That, that man was Lily’s golden goose of the day.

 

If only he was willing to pay.

 

“And who are you that I should pay to draw this sword from the stone?” The man asked, really impatient too, given that Lily had only really started her spiel when he showed up. Peasantry, while believing in king and country, were also a little more cynical about that sort of thing. Perhaps realizing deep down that drawing a sword out of a stone would get them a sword out of a stone, and not a country.

 

Nobility, however, needed a divine sign if they wanted the people to back them (and a decent amount of funding) and pulling a divine sword out of a rock was just the sort of thing a young, wealthy, son of a lord might need.

 

Which meant that it might be a very good day for Lily.

 

“I, good sir, am the wizard Merlin!” Lily said with extreme emphasis as well as a bit of fire and brimstone to add for effect, “Supreme sorcerer and expert on all things mystical and glowing!”

 

The name Merlin, Lily had discovered, was much better at getting things done than Lily had ever been, as was pretending to be a man. Of course, she looked like a rather flimsy man, strangely beardless, but wear loose enough clothing and people didn’t seem too bothered by it for whatever reason.

 

They all just assumed she was part faerie or something.

 

“As the undisputed expert, and the guy who found the mystical glowing Excalibur in the middle of a lake, I have divine custody of the divine king choosing sword! And therefore, good sir, I say you must pay for your chance to prove worthy of ruling the Britons.”

 

The man, and his men, seemed unconvinced.

 

With an unapologetic sneer the man said simply, “Step aside, boy.”

 

Then with a hand motion his knights approached, or tried to but were hampered by Lily’s own removal of their chainmail and swords. And for a moment, a single moment, they were well and truly terrified.

 

“Hold it, assholes.” Lily said, “It’s not going to be that easy.”

 

“I said step aside, peasant!” The lord motioned for his knights to continue moving forward, despite being without arms facing a clearly superior opponent.

 

“And I said pay me!” Lily said holding out her hand, “Seriously, man, I’m not even asking for that much.”

 

He didn’t speak again, in his eyes he didn’t need to, after all even if she was a mighty wizard she was also a peasant and far below him in rank. These people would forget, every once in a while, that power wasn’t based on birth but on power alone. On money to buy troops and weapons and support, on the lands and the serfs, and without that power they had nothing.

 

And to Lily, to someone of her abilities, that power meant nothing at all.

 

He just continued up there, sauntering by, and she just watched. Because he wasn’t the first to do this by any means, he probably wouldn’t be the last either, to just walk by her because she came from nowhere and nothing.

 

And the only reason she let him, was to watch, as he placed his hand on the sword and then… nothing. Not even a budge.

 

“Wizard! What is this sorcery?!”

 

“It appears, my friend, that you are unworthy.” Lily said with a small smile, entirely too pleased to watch as the man spluttered and continued in vain to remove the sword.

 

“Unworthy?!”

 

“Oh, it’s not as if that’s uncommon. Most people, I think, are unworthy of kingship.” Lily said, after all they all had been so far, or at least none of them had managed to pull the sword out of the rock but whether that was any indication of kingship was anyone’s guess.

 

“Then who is worthy?!” He motioned to the crowd, “I am the son of a great lord, my family has ruled land for generations, who else could be worthy of rule?”

 

“Literally anyone.” Lily said with a sigh, leaning against Excalibur and listening to it thrum against her skin, she turned her eyes to the meager audience and the bright eyed boy staring at her and the sword in wonder, “Scrappy there is likely more worthy than you.”

 

The boy started, looking at her with wild blue eyes and then to the lord and his knights, “Hey, Scrappy, what’s your name?”

 

The boy looked at her, flushed, stepped back but with hesitation eventually stammered out, “Arthur, Arthur… Pendragon, or, well, that’s what they told me.”

 

She looked at him, blinked, looked at him again, “Shit.”

 

He looked like his mother, or rather, he looked like Gorlois’ wife that Uther Pendragon had had his way with years ago. Apparently this had resulted in a baby, Arthur Pendragon, who as Lily vaguely recalled would eventually end up king of England.

 

“Really?”

 

“Well, that’s… That’s what they tell me. My mother, she died and… She didn’t like to talk about my father.”

 

Lily would bet she wouldn’t.

 

“Alright, Arthur, want to try your hand at ruling the country?” Lily asked, motioning her head towards the sword.

 

He paused, a hopeful desperate look on his face, and he looked at her like she might snatch this opportunity away at any moment, “I… I… Really?”

 

“Sure, better you than him.” She said motioning to the flustered and in increasingly incensed lord’s son.

 

“But I…”

 

“Look, I have…” Lily tried to remember exactly how many bounties were on her head at the moment and lost track, “A lot of bounties on my head and most of them are from dealing with assholes like him. If I’m going to be ruled by anyone then it’s damn well going to be someone who doesn’t suck.”

 

Warily the boy eyed the lord who was preparing to draw his sword, with a flick of her fingers the sword disappeared along with the man’s armor, so that he was just as ridiculous looking as the rest of his guard, “Ignore him.”

 

With wide eyes at her, then him, the boy slowly climbed the rock face and faced the sword in the stone. It its white and glaring glow he looked ethereal hardly like the common boy he appeared as now, disgraced bastard son of a raped woman.

 

He placed his hands on the handle, a look of determination and wonder crossing his features, then with shaking arms he drew the sword up and out and into the air.

 

And Arthur Pendragon, son of Uther, became king of England.


	5. Lancelot du Lac

Arthur wasn’t taking the tourneys well.

 

Granted, Lily herself wasn’t exactly a fan of them either. After having been in the ‘Gorlois’ Wife Sexual Conquest Battle’ with Arthur’s father, she’d discovered that she really wasn’t a fan of unnecessary bloody violence. Or, at least, unnecessary bloody violence that she herself wasn’t instigating.

 

Still, after a few years of trying and failing to return to her own time, she’d come to at least tolerate the local entertainment. And as far as local entertainment went the tourneys were actually pretty high class.

 

Peasantry, after all, wasn’t allowed up on a horse to impale just anyone to death. You had to be trained for that sort of shit. You needed a horse, armor, lessons, years of practice, all sorts of things to win you the chance to possibly die in a stadium surrounded by lords, ladies, and the rotting lower class.

 

Of course, getting back to the rather green looking Arthur Pendragon, whose eyes had gone wide as he watched some poor bastard who was knocked off the horse, Lily thought that he hadn’t exactly been handling any of it well so far.

 

Really, since she had picked him up in the middle of nowhere with the almost useless sword of destiny.

 

When they had walked a few hours, off into both the proverbial and literal sunset, Lily finally decided it was time to lay down the game plan, “Alright, Scrappy, we’ve got a lot of work ahead of us to put you on a throne that doesn’t exist.”

 

“I’m… I’m sorry but… I…” Arthur stuttered, as he had been stuttering for the past three hours, ever since Lily had dragged his ass out of being flayed by a jilted nobleman and his retinue of yes-men.

 

“Don’t be sorry, nobility are never sorry.” Uther certainly never had been, at least, not when Lily had seen him last. That said none of the other nobility she’d run into had been that regretful either, of course usually Lily was the one destroying their fortress, but she felt that was more or less beside the point.

 

“But… But I… I’m just a pig farmer. An apprentice pig farmer!”

 

“Nope,” Lily said interrupting him before he could start, “You, Arthur Pendragon, are now king of England. Or rather, you will be, very soon if I have anything to say about it.”

 

“King? How can I possibly…” Arthur didn’t seem to get that it was Lily doing the talking and not Arthur Pendragon.

 

“Your father was Uther Pendragon, the largest asshole in all the land, but also one of the richest.” Lily informed Arthur, who nodded hesitantly that this was true as far as he knew, and Lily continued, “Thus, Arthur, you have a somewhat legitimate claim to the stone.”

 

Lily then motioned to Excalibur, sheathed on her own back as Arthur turned out to be too scrawny to carry it even a foot, “Now, pulling the legendary sword out of the stone is a very good start. However, that said, it’s a start. A magic sword isn’t going to win us a country, not by itself, and that’s why we’re going to need get a move on if we want this to work.”

 

She stopped walking, for the first time since they started, and looked at the flushed, sweating, winded little boy she’d pretty much kidnapped to come with her. He was somewhat good looking, if scrawny, still he had that golden haired nobility look to him that could come in handy. Aside from that though… No one would take a twelve-year-old trying to rule the country seriously even with a magic sword.

 

Hell, people would probably respect Lily more if she tried to rule the country. Which, actually, was a bit of a thought… But on the other hand she would have heard if either a time travelling Lily or else Merlin had started ruling England and she wasn’t that disillusioned with the universe yet.

 

Plus, according to her very handy book, Arthur himself was supposed to become king anyways. So, clearly this was somehow all going to work out, and it might be nice knowing a king.

 

So, she somehow had to convince the majority of the country, namely the nobility, that this scrawny blue eyed cherub was their best option.

 

“Merlin, sir?” the boy asked, quaking in his boots, and god would she have to break him of that habit fast.

 

“Brawn,” she concluded, staring deep into his eyes, perhaps even into the depths of his soul, “We need brawn.”

 

“I… I don’t understand. Why are you doing this? Why are you…”

 

“Arthur,” the boy started at her words, practically jolting, “I am a mysterious, ineffable, nigh omnipotent wizard who has pledged his undying loyalty to you and your throne. Don’t question why, just go with it.”

 

“Right…” Arthur trailed off, nodding slowly as if attempting and failing to understand, “What is brawn though, sir?”

 

“Brawn, Arthur, is the answer to all of our problems.” Lily said with a grin down at the boy, which he very weakly returned. She’d have to fix that too.

 

With that she grabbed his arm, walking forward, “Now, come along Arthur.”

 

“Where are we going?”

 

“Why, Arthur, we’re going fishing.”

 

And that was how, a few days later, they’d ended up in the largest tourney in the country looking for prospective meatbags to pledge their allegiance to Arthur Pendragon’s cause.

 

“Pay attention, Arthur, now is not the time to lose your breakfast.” Lily commented, to an Arthur who looked like he really wanted to lose his breakfast.

 

“Sorry, Merlin, sir…” the boy mumbled, eyes closed and turned away from the sight of the man’s broken legs as he was dragged out of the ring.

 

“Christ, Arthur, what did I tell you?!”

 

“Kings are never sorry.” Arthur repeated, shakily, but proving he did at least have a good enough memory to remember what he’d been told a few hours before.

 

“Right, anyways, pay attention. You’re going to need to pick a few of these guys to serve as your knights.”

 

Arthur’s eyes opened at that, he stared down at the joisting arena in shock, and then back at her, “These men… You want me to just pick them?”

 

“These men are trained knights, Arthur, the best in the land. If you want the throne then we need to convince at least… five or maybe six, that you’re the divinely chosen king of England.” Lily explained, then motioned to their surroundings, “No better place to do that than here, young grasshopper.”

 

“But… I’m just… I’m not a king.”

 

Lily looked at him then, this downtrodden boy, throne out of his own home with the death of his mother. Forsaken and shamed for nothing he had any control over, with such a tender and desperate hope in his eyes, a hope he himself didn’t even truly believe in.

 

“Anyone can be king, Arthur.” Lily said, perhaps the first truly serious thing she had said to anyone in years. “Where I’m from we have many different types of governments. Now, most governments nowadays are built by the people and for the people, more or less. However, sometimes we make kings for ourselves. Now, we don’t call them kings, because many of us got over the absolute monarchy years ago but… Well, look me in the eye and tell me Stalin wasn’t a king. And these kings, they can be anybody. If you’re in the right place, the right time, saying the right words… Anything can happen.”

 

She looked out into the stands, into the faces of these people in a country that was so similar to hers and yet so very different, “The truth, Arthur, is that anyone can be king. Even pig farming bastard sons of rapists.”

 

It was the wrong thing to say, or at least, perhaps not the most comforting. But then, she’d never truly intended to comfort Arthur Pendragon. She’d never truly intended to have anything to do with Arthur Pendragon son of Uther. But then… He was her responsibility, in a way, because of her Arthur had been brought into existence.

 

So perhaps she did owe him something.

 

Regardless, she didn’t like the way he was staring at her, with that desolate emptiness in his eyes.

 

She turned back to the knights, “Now, Arthur, pick a few.”

 

He stared sightlessly into the arena, not moving when the next pair was announced, just staring, “Where will we go, when I pick? I don’t have a home, not really.”

 

“Camelot,” Lily said, “It was your father’s castle.”

 

“…My father.” Arthur repeated, rather dully, then, “You hate my father.”

 

Lily thought on that, watching as the knights mounted their steeds, raising their lances towards one another, “Well, I thoroughly disliked him. Of course, he’s dead now so… Here we are.”

 

“If you hate my father why are you helping me?”

 

She gave the only answer she could, “Because I hated your father.”

 

For the first time he didn’t truly protest that, just nodded slightly, and turned back to the events of the day and tried not to flinch.

 

Of course, he failed, time and again, but at least he was starting to put some effort into it.

 

* * *

 

 

At the end of the week, after jousting and competitions of swordsmanship, sitting back unnoticed in the stands and listening as awards of honor and glory were dispensed upon the victors Lily and Arthur came to their decisions.

“Well, obviously we have to invite that Lancelot fellow.” Lily started, Lancelot being the very brawny young man who was being lauded with flowers for having won every single competition.

 

Arthur gave her an incredulous look, “That one? But he’s…”

 

“Brave.” Lily said, amending at Arthur’s slightly ill expression, “Alright, homicidally brave.”

 

Arthur did not look in the least bit reassured.

 

“Homicidally brave men are very important, Arthur.” Lily said, they after all, were what won you glorious battles.

 

Arthur grimaced slightly, trying not to pale, then pointed to one of the other young men standing nearby. This one was a little less muscular than the good sir Lancelot du Lac and just… well, less than Lancelot in general, “What about him? Sir Robin.”

 

“The not quite so brave as sir Lancelot?” Lily asked, eyeing him dubiously, “…I guess they can’t all be winners. Why not try to pick someone more… better?”  

 

She searched through her memory, as well as the faces in the arena, for someone who didn’t necessarily stand up to the masculine glory that was Lancelot but at least could convince most people that Arthur did have several loyal knights and not just Lily standing behind him with fire and brimstone.

 

Lancelot was just so impressive though that it was hard to remember anyone else.

 

“I guess we’ll pick Lancelot and… maybe four replaceable others. Yeah, that’ll work. But we have to have Lancelot… And not the scrawny bastard next to him, no one will respect you.”

 

Arthur looked at her dubiously for a moment, fidgeting, then asked, “You don’t… You’re not going to pick anyone specifically? You don’t even know their names?”

 

Lily stood, hoisting Arthur up with her, “Well, no, but I figure that’s not all that important. We’ll find out as we go along I’m sure. Now, off we go!”

 

“Go? Where are we going?!” Arthur asked as Lily dragged him along down through the stands, parting through the crowds as if it was the red sea.

 

“We, grasshopper, are going to meet and greet and convince the dashingly handsome and very talented sir Lancelot to join you on your quest for kingship.” Lily explained before breaking the wards of distraction around them and shouting down at the men, “Hello! Lancelot, up here! Important divine business proposition for you.”

 

Lancelot started, looked up into the stands at her and Arthur, and then proceeded to look very confused, “Ah, fair maiden, greetings… Oh, you’re coming down, I’m not certain you’re supposed to…”

 

Lily and Arthur hopped into the arena and walked up to him, Lily beaming, “Merlin, actually, I’m a man.”

 

“You are… not a woman?” Lancelot asked, which, well she was but Merlin was a man so she was still just going with it. Plus, it was just so much easier to get things done as a man, people didn’t question you or why you had money or even god like powers when you were a man.

 

“Sorcerer, wizard, advisor to the future king of England, you know, Merlin.” Lily said, then pushed Arthur forward, “And this is Arthur Pendragon, he pulled the legendary sword from the mountainside. This makes him king.”

 

Arthur took that moment to look almost pathetically un-king like, much to Lily’s own dismay, and Lancelot’s dubiousness with the situation.

 

Lily slammed the legendary sword down in front of him, “Look, see, it glows. How many glowing swords have you ever seen?”

 

Lancelot still seemed unconvinced, and as with most things in this time, Lily could feel her opportunities slipping away. And thus, she did the only thing these men seemed to respect as a threat.

 

She held out her hand, and summoned Lancelot’s sword to her, leaving him to reach for it with wide eyes.

 

“Oh, look at that, now I have two swords.” Lily commented with a grin to Arthur, Arthur looking very pale and unamused.

 

“You… Witch! Hand it back.”

 

“Oh, I will, provided you come with us. I mean, he’s going to be king anyways, right? You might as well get in on that from the beginning.” Lily hustled Arthur along, parting through the uninterested crowds with ease, leaving Lancelot to charge after them.

 

“I mean, think of it not as forced labor for your sword, but a priceless opportunity to pledge your allegiance to the true king of England.”

 

Lancelot was not seeing it that way, but Lily didn’t really need him to be enthusiastic, just handsome, intimidating, and homicidally brave.

 

Looking down at Arthur she smiled as they exited the arena, Lancelot cursing in tow throwing rocks against the backs of their heads, “I think that went rather well.”


	6. The Fall of Camelot

“It was a nice castle.”

 

The very recently and divinely appointed king Arthur Pendragon, his faithful if reluctant knight Sir Lancelot du Lac, and Lily masquerading as Merlin sat atop a great hill overlooking what had, very recently, been the proud castle Camelot. Unfortunately, Camelot happened to be on fire, and by the look of the great flames it would continue to be on fire for some time.

 

In Lily’s defense, her book had said nothing about Camelot burning to the ground.

 

It was almost nostalgic though, in a way it reminded her of Wizard Lenin. She could so easily picture the two of them in this situation, wordless, staring out at the blaze in the twilight, neither quite sure what to say.

 

Both thinking that same, understated, thought of, “Well, it certainly could have gone better.”

 

And although he would try very hard not too, would do his best to appear both unimpressed and disapproving, a small corner of his lips would twitch and a reluctant, softly amused smile, would appear on his lips.

 

But she wasn’t sitting with Wizard Lenin, Wizard Lenin was more than a thousand years removed from her, no she was wearing Merlin’s name, sitting on a hill with Arthur Pendragon and Lancelot.

 

So all she said was, “Yes, it was.”

 

Arthur, for his own part, looked perhaps a bit too nostalgic as well considering he’d never been to the place before. Then again, Arthur’s father problems were very clear for all to see. This ruined castle was probably the closest he’d ever gotten to know Uther Pendragon, which perhaps was for the best considering it was Uther they were talking about.

 

Lancelot, on the other hand, looked as if he’d finally managed to put two and two together and had the righteous fear of Merlin stuffed into his heart. It was the first time since they’d met him that he’d shut up about black mailing witches and perhaps the first time it looked like he really understood that Merlin, Lily, could crush him like a tiny bug beneath her shoe if she had the slightest whim to.

 

The silence continued onwards, Arthur staring forward the light of the fire reflected in his eyes, and all at once Lily felt the need to say something… Anything. Maybe talk about what it had looked like when she’d been first dragged inside of it by armed men, what it had looked like when it had been his father rather than some distant cousin of his, sitting on the throne inside of there.

 

How it hadn’t been so much the castle, but rather his father, that had made Camelot the imposing grandiose place that it was.

 

So she simply repeated her earlier testament a tone that was perhaps too flat for the occasion, “It was a nice castle.”

 

This seemed to be Lancelot’s breaking point, he motioned dramatically to the castle, “A nice… What is wrong with you?!”

 

At first she thought he meant Arthur, and if he did she would either tell him to back off or explain that Arthur had an unfortunate amount of daddy issues, as it was he was staring directly at her. Which, well, that was ridiculous because while some could attribute the blame to her this clearly was not her fault.

 

“…I fail to understand your accusation.” Lily finally said, eyebrows raised imperiously, daring him to doubt her.

 

“Witch, how can you possibly fail to understand the accusation?!”

 

“First, not a witch, I would need to be a woman to be a witch. Which I am very clearly not a woman.” Lily pointed out, not for the first time either, Arthur had learned to roll with Merlin being a man but Lancelot was still having trouble with the issue.

 

In spite of her very loose, genderless clothing, which really made it perfectly reasonable for her to impersonate a man.

 

“You are very clearly not a man…” Lancelot grumbled, more under his breath than anything else, which Lily took as the perfect opportunity to steamroll over his tangent.

 

“Second, this is all clearly not in any way shape or form my fault.”

 

Arthur turned his head slowly from the scene of his future castle on fire, to stare at her dully, along with Lancelot.

 

“You lit it on fire!” Lancelot said, motioning to the great flames engulfing Camelot as they spoke.

 

Lily turned to eye it, caught sight of those distant men on the wall, tossing themselves in desperation into the moat below, only to be drowned by their own armor as they flailed attempting to reach the opposite shore.

 

“Well, when you put it like that, yes.” Lily allowed, before adding on the excuse of, “However, that said, I didn’t come into this situation wanting to light it on fire. I’m afraid I had no choice, therefore, this is not my fault.”

 

“You wanted to usurp a lord’s castle in order to place a boy at its head! What, pray tell fair maiden, did you think would happen?!”

 

“Arthur has a mystical glowing sword of destiny; they should have known to respect the mystical glowing sword of destiny.” Lily would have respected the mystical glowing sword of destiny if she was Uther Pendragon’s distant cousin inside of the castle. Or, at the very least, she would have respected the wizard Merlin’s ultimatum of, “get out or get on fire”.

 

“He is a lad! He is a common bastard pig keeper.” Lancelot said, motioning to Arthur as if he was a sack of meat. Which, really, Lily may bully Arthur around too but at least she had some respect for him.

 

Arthur curled in on himself, looking smaller than ever, his eyes on both Lancelot and Lily but his face flushed with shame.

 

“Hey, you work for that common bastard pig keeper.” Lily pointed out.

 

“I do not…”

 

“You could always leave, no one’s holding you here against your will.”

 

Lancelot pointed to his broad sword, still strapped to Lily’s back, “Witch, you stole my blade!”

 

“Still not a witch, and I didn’t steal it, I… borrowed it indefinitely.” Lily finished, because now that she thought about it she really had stolen it, that didn’t make him right though.

 

“Words of a thief and vagabond if there ever were any.” Lancelot spat, “Of course, now there is no castle for them or for you.”

 

Lily glanced back at the castle, grimacing slightly, really the place looked like it had bene under siege for days, “I suppose that’s true… We could always make another one though.”

 

Neither Arthur nor Lancelot had anything to say to that plan so they returned to that tense silence they had been in before.

 

It had sort of been spur of the moment, setting up a base of operations before assembling the team of… other knights. In retrospect it maybe had been a bit too hasty, probably better to get the knights and some prestige before storming the castle. But then, it’d be much easier to recruit knights if they could at least claim to have a castle.

 

Still, staring at the now ruined castle, perhaps she had put the cart a little ahead of the horse.

 

Finally, Lily announced, “On second thought, let’s not go to Camelot, it is a silly place.”


	7. The Rabbit in the Cave

It had been weeks on the road since the destruction of Camelot, weeks of searching for the rest of the Knights of the Round table and no one was coming up. Now, according to Lily’s ever so helpful Merlin book, she had a few of the names of some of them (except it was written by wizards who aside from thinking Arthur was a pretty hip king didn’t really care that much about his knights).

 

Unfortunately, the names listed… Well…

 

The first time she’d finally sat down and read that chapter, and then reread it to make sure, they’d been sitting by the campfire, Lancelot glaring daggers at her as if that would make her return his sword (and now armor) back to him and allow him to go on his merry way while Arthur leaned back and stared at the stars.

 

“Arthur, we need to go for a walk and talk about… life and things. Lancelot, stay there and keep looking pretty.”

 

Lancelot didn’t even deign to respond as she dragged Arthur up, flung an arm around his shoulder, and walked away from the camp.

 

“Merlin, sir, where are we going?” Arthur asked, eyes wary, perhaps with good reason as strange things tended to happen whenever Lily told Arthur that they needed to have a talk.

 

“Well, Arthur, I have some good news and some bad news,”

 

“Oh, um, what is the good news?” Arthur asked, not looking at all reassured that this was indeed, good news.

 

“The good news is that I figured out who some of your knights are.”

 

“Oh, that is indeed good news… What’s the bad news?”

 

“Well the bad news is… How to explain this, well one mentioned is Gallahad.”

 

Arthur seemed to be waiting for the punch and eventually asked, “What is wrong with Gallahad?”

 

“I’m pretty certain he doesn’t exist yet. You see, he’s Lancelot’s bastard son, or, well, one of them. Apparently, Lancelot makes very good use of his very good looks.” Lily said, at least she was pretty sure, even if Lancelot had started visiting tavern wenches at the age of thirteen then Gallahad still probably wouldn’t be old enough to be a knight.

 

“Oh, um…”

 

“Right, another one is Lohengrin, but he really doesn’t exist yet, being Percival’s son. Then there’s Percival himself, who I’m not even sure is a knight of the round table, it was unclear, but he does sound important but I’m not sure he’s really knight age at the moment either…”

 

“Oh, well, can’t we just find… other knights?” Arthur asked then, looking extremely uncertain without having any idea why he should.

 

“No, that would cause a paradox and could possibly kill us all.” Lily said, which she’d normally leave it at that but Arthur did look alarmingly confused by that. Plus, she’d probably have to tell Arthur eventually, “Arthur, I’m actually a time traveler, I’m from the future.”

 

“You’re… what?”

 

“I’m from the future, from the year 1992, so pretty much a thousand years from now. It’s much better than the current day and age. So, what this means is, when I say things like you have some guy named Gallahad in your round table, it means you have some guy named Gallahad in your round table.”

 

Arthur seemed stunned by this, “Wait, so you are living backwards, backwards in time?”

 

That didn’t sound right, sounded remarkably not right, but Lily found she didn’t care to correct him, “Sure, why not.”

 

Then, flipping through her now quite worn book to make sure she didn’t miss anything important, her eyes caught on another note, this one about Merlin. Merlin being that asshole who had yet to appear, and who Lily had been impersonating for an alarmingly long time (if she didn’t know any better she would say there wasn’t a Merlin in the first place).

 

“I actually have more bad news, Arthur.”

 

This time Arthur paled dramatically and a look of genuine fear crossed his features.

 

Lily ignored this and continued with a grimace, “It turns out, I feel the great need to teach you moral values by turning you into a squirrel.”

 

“What?”

 

Lily shrugged, “I know, it’s weird, I don’t really get it either but… Well, who am I to argue with historical scholars nine hundred and ninety nine years in the future?”

 

“But, what do I need to learn?”

 

Lily considered him, he was already pretty squirrely, “I don’t really know. But it must be something very important.”

 

“Can’t I just learn it as a person? Do I have to be…”

 

But Lily cut off whatever logical arguments Arthur might have and turned him into a small, wide eyed, and terrified looking squirrel. This being for the good of humanity and the time line of course, even if Lily wasn’t all that sure why he had to be turned into a squirrel.

 

This brought them to the current day where she and Lancelot were crouched outside of a cave, Arthur the squirrel perched on her shoulder jerking his head this way and that, and the scent of death lingering in the air.

 

 

“This looks quite ominous,” Lily stated as her eyes roamed over the wreckage to which she received a withering glare from Lancelot.

 

“There are bones of men and foul beasts littered outside,” Lancelot said, which he seemed to feel meant something quite obvious.

 

“Well, they did say it was the layer of the great beast of Caerbannog. I would hope, given its great reputation from the ever so helpful Enchanter Tim, that it’d leave horrifying carnage in its wake.”  It was almost reassuring, after all, this meant it was something that ate things like a normal being. If it was Rabbit, well, that was a whole different ballgame.

 

“Remind me why we are here,” Lancelot said instead.

 

“We need knights, knights other than you, and supposedly the terrifying beast inside of this cave does not eat all its victims, and in fact also guards a great clue to the whereabouts of the Holy Grail.”

 

“And?”

 

“And, if we manage to defeat the beast, which we should since you are homicidally brave and I am practically a god, then we should be able to find whatever unfortunate souls are still alive inside of there and persuade them to join our cause.” Lily said, and hopefully there would still be some left in there, Tim the Enchanter had seemed doubtful, but Lily liked to believe there was always hope.

 

“Our cause being service to a squirrel,” Lancelot stated, eyes landing on squirrely Arthur with distaste (it turned out, there were things he liked serving less than a bastard twelve-year-old).

 

“Arthur has yet to learn his grand lesson.”

 

“Which is?”

 

“I have no idea, but if he’d learned it already he wouldn’t still be a squirrel.” Lily said, before brushing this off and stating, “But we need to focus, this thing, whatever it is, is probably going to be huge. Who knows, it may even be a dragon.”

 

“Then why wouldn’t they simply call it a dragon. Surely the sorcerer…”

 

“I believe he was an enchanter.”

 

“...Fine, witch, the enchanter, had seen it for himself. Why simply, the beast?”

 

“Maybe it changes shape, maybe it has no true mortal form, or maybe it’s so hideous and foul that it defies description. I don’t know, Lancelot, I’m not the one who named it.”

 

The man sighed, then glared forth at the cave, and without a word to her made to move in, and stopped when, out of the darkness, hopped a white, and very familiar looking, rabbit.

 

“Oh, you have got to be shitting me.” Lily said to herself, her eyes narrowing as the rabbit hopped towards a pile of bones to nibble upon it, “Rabbit, you son of a bitch.”

 

“Surely, it’s not the rabbit.”

 

“Oh, Lancelot my poor fool of a friend, it very much is the rabbit.”

 

The rabbit that was innocently nibbling on what looked like the rib of a great elephant (although how and why Rabbit had transported an elephant to England to eat it was beyond her… Or why he was nibbling in the first place, since he’d never actually eaten food like a normal thing in her presence).

 

Carefully, she passed Arthur the agitated squirrel off to Lancelot, “Hold Arthur for me, would you, I will be back shortly.”

 

Then, before either could protest (well, Arthur had been protesting since he’d been turned into a squirrel in the first place) Lily stepped into the beast’s layer. Rabbit immediately stopped nibbling, stared at her, his eyes straying to the bright burning blade of Excalibur which she held in her hands.

 

Lily said nothing for a moment, cocked her head, and then, using the question for any and every occasion, “So I guess the question is, Rabbit, do you feel lucky. Well, do you, punk?”

 

She then charged, swinging the blade down fiercely, even as Rabbit himself did not move or even blink, and then there was a great blinding light, the feeling of everything tilting, of reality itself screeching and falling out of place, and…

 

* * *

 

 

She stared up, a great endless blue expanse above her, the back of her head unbelievably sore, and Excalibur still held loosely in one hand. Above her the faces of Lancelot and Arthur swam into view and for a moment they looked at her and she looked at them and then…

 

“Arthur, you’re not a squirrel anymore.”

 

Arthur blinked, looked down at his very non-squirrel like form, then back at her, “No, I… um, after you attacked the rabbit I turned back into a person.”

 

“Oh, did you learn anything?”

 

“I do not wish to be a squirrel,” Arthur said, but with a little more backbone then he’d shown with her previously.

 

“Well, I think that’s an important life lesson. Were there actually any knights in the cave?”  


“No, although there was an inscription by Jospeh of Arimathea,” Lancelot stated, looking rather bored by all of this, which to be fair he had missed out on most of the… rabbity action.

 

“Oh, what did that say?”

 

“It said that the Grail can be found in the, and I quote, ‘Castle of Aaaaargh,”

 

Lily blinked, blinked again, wondered if she had missed some of her geography, and then decided that unless the Holy Grail was a time machine she really didn’t care that much in the first place.

 

Lily sat up, looking for the rabbit, or, well, Rabbit, but he was nowhere in sight. Had probably teleported himself to some other location. Although what he was doing here, or what he had been doing in a lake for that matter was still beyond her.

 

“Right, so, where do you guys want to go recruiting next. London?”

 

“I’ve never been to London,” Arthur said and Lancelot shrugged and said, “So long as we stay at an inn and you pay for room, board, and wenches.”

 

“There’s a wench’s fee now?”

 

“Witch, for all that you have put me through there shall always be a wench’s fee.”

**Author's Note:**

> Someone I believed asked for a case of mistaken identity/time travel with Lily and Merlin. So we have this strange thing. Note that though it's unfinished I've marked it as complete as I really have no inclination to add to this one. It just kept going.
> 
> Thanks for reading, comments, kudos, and bookmarks are appreciated.


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